Terminator: Survivors
by AgentJX7
Summary: Jack, an ordinary high-school boy, must do the impossible and survive the world after it is decimated by the machine uprising. Rated T for language and Sci-Fi action.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hi! This is my first fanfiction, and is based of of the Terminator series and The Walking Dead. The individual fanfictions are like seasons, and the chapters are episodes. Starting next chapter there will be a character list. Enjoy and please be nice.**

The rain poured down outside as the bell rang. I got up amid the turmoil of 25 students all scrambling to the door, and out into the full-out melee in the hall as 100 students all attempted to access their lockers at the same time. As I retrieved my stuff, I thought back over the day's events. Something had happened between Marcus Blake and his girlfriend, Callie. They had apparently broken up, and Marcus had been shooting me looks that would cause a man-eating lion to cry in fear. Marcus already hated me simply for existing. I always figured it was because he couldn't stand the thought that someone who was so bad with sports and girls could always be smarter than him. And it surely wouldn't help if he knew I had an enormous crush on his girlfriend. Callie was the kind of girl that you always saw in cheesy movies. To put it in the words of a good friend, "She makes all of us other girls look like potatoes." And I had talked to her occasionally, and she had a great personality. I never understood why she dated such a jerk. As I headed out to the bus, I heard a malicious voice.

"Hey! Jackass!" (This was Marcus's Favorite nickname for me, as my name is Jack.) "Why've you been messin' with my girl?" He was shouting across the rainy area just outside the school.

"Excuse me?" I shouted. "Messing with your what?"

"My girl! Callie broke up with me. And it's all your fault."

"Really," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "Blaming others. I'm sure that's really attractive to her."

"No," he said, approaching me and trying to look menacing, "She said she wanted to go out with someone else. And all throughout lunch she was staring at you. So its gotta be you." I had to try extremely hard not to jump up and down and cheer or shake my ass victoriously in his general direction. Then he cocked a sly grin and said, "I think I'll SHOW her that I'm better than you." The victorious feeling dissipated just as quickly as it had materialized.

Throughout this time, we had slowly advanced off school property. We were now in the small woods behind the school, so the teachers had no jurisdiction. We were on a small concrete path.

I only really felt the first punch. After that, it sort of blurred together and formed a wave of pain. Then he kicked me in the stomach, and I fell to the ground. I hit my head on the concrete pretty hard, and could tell that I was going to black out. _You've got enough energy for one move_, my brain said, _so make it count._

He was currently rearing up to kick me in the balls, and so he had one leg way up in the air. I quickly swept my leg around, and swept out his other leg from under him. He fell and landed on his tailbone with a sickening _crack_. He made a noise comparable to a person who had just been sick, and then fainted. _Good choice, _said my brain, and then I blacked out.

* * *

I awoke in a hospital bed. I could immediately tell that something was up because nothing was beeping. There's ALWAYS beeping of some kind. At first, I feared that my heart had stopped, but then realized there was no power. This was the first sign that all was not as it should be. The IV that I assumed had been plugged into my arm was hanging limp by the floor. I pulled on my clothes- a pair of blue jeans, my tee shirt, and my leather jacket and left the room. The second clue was the gun lying in the hallway. Why there was a gun in the middle of a hospital escaped me. It was an M1911, and it had four bullets left. I took it, thinking that it could come in handy. I had no idea how right I was.

I approached the hospital door. There was a truck in front of the door, so I couldn't see outside. I rounded the truck, and looked out over the city. When I saw the ruins, I screamed. It was hell. The buildings and roads were crumbling. Several cars burned. Smoke turned the sky into a swirling black malestrom. My first thought was to use the gun to shoot myself. Then I calmed down. I set off to find another survivor.

The hissing noise startled me. I turned and saw a small metal thing on top of a car. It seemed to be a CPU attached to a ribcage that had spiderlike legs jutting out from the lower half. A single, glowing red eye was set in the middle of its face. T-200 was engraved on a small metal plate set on top of the box.

"What the hell are you?" I asked the machine quizzically. The machine hissed again, and then the barrel of a gun appeared out of a small hole to the right of its eye.

"Oh, crap," I exclaimed as I dove for cover. The machine fired a three-round burst and turned towards the piece of concrete I was now behind. I gripped the gun tightly, waiting for my opportunity. I popped up and shot it in the eye. It honest-to-god SCREAMED and began shooting wildly. I shot it again and it stopped screaming. It fell off the car, and I ran to the only place where I knew I could get a weapon.

Hank's Outdoor World was a camping and fishing outfitter that was also an arms supplier. It was there that I headed now to get my box. Hank had come up with the idea for the Apocalypse Box after getting hooked on _The Walking Dead_. The idea was that you gave Hank anywhere from $500 to $1000 and he would reserve three guns and ammunition for you in the case of an epochal crisis. I never thought I would have to use mine, though. I found my tub and pulled it out. I sincerely hoped Hank had survived. He was a good dude. I pulled out my assault rifle and checked it over. It seemed fine, as did my shotgun. Finally, I pulled out my revolver. It was the gun that I was best with. I got up, ready to go.

As I stood, there was a creaking noise from the corner. There was a metal skeleton. It started creaking as it began to move. Its eyes were an angry red, like the fires of hell. It stood, and and I realized it was a more advanced version of the spider thing that had tried to kill me. It didn't appear to be armed, but as it moved towards me, I realized that it could snap my neck or throw me into a wall, or kill me one of a hundred other ways. I raised the revolver and shot it in the eye. It kept coming, accelerating. I shot it again in the head and chest, and it fell over. It ran into a display of fishing rods. I didn't wait to see if it was dead, or just down. I ran for the door.

As I stepped into the harsh light of the city, I wondered how long I had been in the hospital. A month? Two? It had to have been a while, for this much damage to be done to the city. I headed towards downtown, my only thought to find another human. I knew that I couldn't survive in this world alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO! Jack is stuck in a city overrun by machines. Let's see what happens... R&R please!**

Character List [Note: Dead characters will be on the list for the next chapter with the status "deceased."]

Jack- The protagonist.- Status: Alive

Callie- A girl who went to Jack's school and Marcus' ex-girlfriend.- Status: Unknown

Marcus- The bully who put Jack in the hospital.- Status: Unknown

(?'s POV)

-Elsewhere-

I awoke strapped to a chair. There was a distinct mechanical hum all around. The chair was reclined, so I was flat on my back. There was a small panel with an array of hellish tools that looked like surgical instruments, if your surgeon was also a serial killer. I glanced out the one window, and saw "CYBERDYNE SYSTEMS RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENTAL TEST AREA: PROJECT ANGEL." I had no time to ponder the meaning of this, as just then a glowing red eye dropped down from the ceiling.

"SUBJECT IS AWAKE," said the eye. "PREPARE FOR UPGRADE."

The panel with the tools moved closer, and the instruments were lifted off it with robotic arms. As the first one cut my arm, I screamed. Then darkness overcame me.

* * *

(Jack's POV)

The street was dirty and covered in rubble. I guess it was to be expected, with the apocalypse and all. There was a pistol-grip shotgun slung across my back, and my assault rifle was hanging on my other shoulder. My trusty magnum .44 revolver was drawn and ready. I never missed a target, especially with the revolver. The sound of crashing behind me jolted me back to reality. I guessed the robot that had attacked me wasn't dead, but was struggling to get free of the fishing display I had knocked it into. My best course of action was to find another survivor, as my chances of surviving were currently around zero.

Then I heard a noise, and _it _crawled over the top of a building. _It_ was a huge, spiderlike metal beast with machine guns for hands. It was clear that this thing took no prisoners. I knew I was dead. I was hidden behind a car, but _it _was closing in fast. And then _it_ was shredded to bits.

The Survivors' four wheel drive rounded the corner at high speed. It had been modified, and had a chaingun in the back. It slowed to a stop, and a man in the back of the truck reached out a hand to me. He had blonde hair and a black bandanna wrapped around his head.

"I'm Kyle," he said, "Come with me if you want to live."

* * *

"These things are Terminators, or Hunter-Killer units. Their only purpose is to kill people."

"Gee, _thanks_, Captain Obvious," I said to Kyle, "I had_ no_ idea."

Kyle rolled his eyes, then continued. " We're the Survivors, a small group of around fifteen people dedicated to surviving the machine uprising. Right now, we're headed four our base downtown."

The rest of the ride was uneventful. The Survivors' current base was a small building in the downtown area that was partially sunken into the ground. There were around ten people loading vehicles, checking weapons, and a guy who was presumably a lookout.

"We're getting ready to leave," Kyle explained. "The whole city is crawling with Terminators. If we don't get the hell out of dodge, we have two choices: join the Resistance, or die. And we don't want to join the resistance because of their suicidal devotion to saving all of humanity, and the rest of that crap. We just want to survive."

Although this idea was sort of self-destructive, (if we're the only ones who survive, how will we get ammunition, food, and other resources?) it made sense at the time. The truck rolled to a stop, and we got off. Someone wearing a motorcycle helmet glanced at us, stopped, and then ran over. The person was a girl, who was wearing a black, form-fitting suit with some kind of metal plates attached to the outside. It looked like something out of a sci-fi movie. She pulled off her helmet, and I recognized her immediately. She had the same brown hair, the same perfect face, the same impossible blue-green eyes that drove me insane. It was Callie.

"Oh my God, JACK," she cried, "You're alive!"

My only response was, "Uh... yeah, I guess so."

"I thought you were dead. At first it seemed like Marcus killed you, and I almost killed him, but you were both in the hospital, and you were in a coma, and THEN the stupid apocalypse happened and, like, EVERYBODY died, but Kyle saved me, and now you!"

"What about Marcus?" I asked, mostly because it was the only coherent sentence that my brain could put together.

"We don't know," Callie replied, "we THINK he died, but a Harvester may have gotten him."

"How long was I out?" was the next thing I could say.

"About two weeks."

This was a huge shock. In two weeks these things had killed thousands, maybe millions, reduced cities to rubble, and managed to drive humans to forming a resistance, instead of a normal military. Things were bad. Very bad. I was so stunned by this that when someone said "Hi" to me I replied "Fine, thanks."

The leader was a very loud older gentleman with an eyepatch and a mustache. His name was Jake.

"So you're the kid Kyle dragged in off the streets," he growled. "He does this all the time. Pulls in every last damn kid with a gun. You're the third this week. Well, I suppose you could be of some help."

His second in command was a tall African-American dude named John. He looked like an athlete. He had a .60 caliber machine gun slung over one shoulder.

"Sir, John said, "we're ready to move out."

"Good," said Jake. "ALL RIGHT EVERYBODY, GET TO THE CARS! WE'RE LEAVING IN FIVE MINUTES, AND I DON'T REALLY CARE IF YOU'RE WITH US OR NOT!" He turned to me. "Go in Kyle's truck. Once we're out of the city, you'll get a bunk in the transporter." He gestured to a big truck that presumably had bunks in the back.

I got in the back of the truck that Kyle was in. Callie was also in the back, and a guy named Nick was driving. Nick was a pretty normal-looking guy, and seemed nice. The truck began to move, and then we were off.


End file.
